A Thousand Years
by TheWitch'sDorothy
Summary: Meg/Christine, oneshot. "All along I believed I would find you, time has brought your heart to me, I have loved for a thousand years, I'll love you for a thousand more." -A Thousand Years by Christina Perri.


**A/N: My first Phantom fic and my first Meg/Christine fic! It's a hybrid of Leroux and the 2004 movie, so I hope it isn't too confusing. I would really love to get feedback on this, so please read and review! :)**

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Christine has always known she is different, and not simply because that is what her Angel always tells her. She knows she is different in another way as well, one that will impact her more than anything else should anyone find out. Christine Daaé, the young woman who has already been dubbed "The Soprano of the Century" by critics and opera-goers alike, has the same feelings for women as she does for men.

It has been like that for as long as she can remember. When she looks at a beautiful woman, she occasionally gets the same chills and butterflies as she does when looking at a man she considers attractive. She has heard all of the preachers' sermons about the dangers of such unnatural attractions, read the Biblical tales of Sodom and Gomorrah. She has tried to resist, to flat out deny it for so long, but it didn't work. So now she clings both to her Angel and to Raoul, hoping her closeness to them will turn into love. But it hasn't yet and Christine doubts that it ever will.

Christine sighs deeply, turning over in her bed as she tries for the umpteenth time to fall asleep, her dark brown curls strewn messily over her pillow. Her Angel always said that one sings better if they sleep well, and he has never been wrong before. She has tried and tried for hours now, tossing and turning in a futile effort to allow sleep to claim her. Suddenly, a short, tentative knock sounds at the door, startling Christine from her thoughts. Who on earth would call now, she wonders. It's almost midnight and the opera had closed hours ago. Still, not wanting to be impolite, she get up and, drawing her nightgown around her, makes her way to the door. She shivers at the feeling of the cold stone floor underneath her bare feet. She reaches the door and as she opens it and sees who is standing there, a little gasp escapes her mouth.

"Christine Daaé..." The girl's voice is filled with wonder. "I never thought I would see you again."

"Meg," Christine breathes, looking at the achingly familiar face. The girl- young woman now- with whom she fell in love with at the Conservatory, and whom, Christine remembers as a gentle flush creeps slowly over her pale cheeks, was both her first kiss and her first time. Who now stands in her doorway after they had parted ways two years ago, when Christine had graduated. The golden blonde hair, those warm and searching light brown eyes, the slim figure clad in a simple white dress. She is a dancer, Christine recalls. A dancer who has always wanted to sing. "What are you doing here?"

"It seems the chorus here at the Opera Populaire was in need of a dancer. I remembered hearing you mention the name just before you graduated and decided to come here; then I auditioned and they gave me the part. After my audition, I overhear someone saying how incredible the new lead soprano is, and I ask who it is." Meg's eyes are shining with anger and unshed tears and Christine's heart cracks a small, thin line down the middle. "The man turns to me and says 'Don't you know? She's the Soprano of the Century, the great Christine Daaé!'"

Christine's eyes widen and she opens her mouth to say something, but falls silent once more. After all, what can she say? That she was too frightened of jeopardizing her future to contact Meg? That she had broken her promise to send a letter to Meg once she was settled for fear that someone would read it and find out? Or would she say that, to put it simply, she was too much of a coward to acknowledge that whatever she felt for Meg was more than what she had originally thought it to be, a simple infatuation? For once in her life, Christine had no answers.

"How could you?" The tears are beginning to flow from the bright brown eyes, tracing tracks down Meg's delicate, lovely face. Christine has to stop herself from reaching out and wiping away Meg's tears, as she used to do whenever the young dancer would cry. "I trusted you! I believed you when you told me you'd never leave me, never forget me! But more than that-" Meg's shaking voice is growing in volume and strength as she glares at Christine through her tears, the hurt and fury in her voice making the soprano flinch. "I loved you, Christine Daaé. And what's even worse is that I still do." Meg breaks down after the last sentence, covering her face with her hands as silent sobs begin to rack her body. Standing there, Christine feels as though someone has just torn out her heart and thrown it to the floor. Never before has she seen Meg so completely shattered, not even the night before she left the Conservatory. She swallows hard, trying to force down the lump in her throat and blink back the tears that are on the verge of overflowing.

"Meg…" She whispers thickly, reaching out tentatively to place her hand on the blonde's shoulder. Meg pulls away as she does, glaring up at Christine with tear-filled eyes filled with anger.

"Don't touch me. Don't pretend like we can go back to the way things were, that you can make me fall into your arms with one word, as I did two years ago. I was a fool then, to truly think you could feel for me what I felt- and still feel- for you," Meg says, her entire body shaking from the force of crying. Christine feels her heart breaking and, reaching out, takes Meg's hands in her own.

"Marguerite Élisabeth Giry, look at me," Christine begins, surprising both her and Meg with the steadiness of her tone. "I was a fool and a coward. I was afraid of what I felt for you, of what it would mean for the both of us if anyone ever found out. I thought only of myself, not caring what you were going through. I was wrong to do that, so horribly wrong…" She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, willing herself to stay strong. She reopens her eyes and looks at Meg, who is gazing back up at her as tears run their silent course down her face. "But now I realize what an enormous mistake I made. Meg Giry, I love you." Meg's eyes widened slightly at her declaration and Christine tightened her grip on the blonde, leaning in to press her lips to Meg's in a chaste but loving kiss. As she pulls away, Christine notes the look of wonder and happiness that has spread over Meg's face.

"Christine, I- Oh, Christine!" Meg throws her arms around the lead soprano's neck, burying her face in her shoulder as the tears running down her face turn to ones of joy. Christine wraps her arms back around the other woman, holding her as close as possible.

"I'm sorry, Meg. I won't ever let my fear come between us again," Christine whispers softly, feeling a few tears fall from her eyes as she gives a shaky laugh, giddy from relief. She can't believe what has happened in the past half an hour. She's gotten her Meg back, the one person who she loves and who loves her just as fiercely in return. As their lips meet in another, more passionate kiss, Christine vows that she will never, never let the ballerina escape her grasp again.

And unlike two years ago, there is no doubt in the promise.


End file.
